


Night Driver

by myracingthoughts



Series: Darcy Lewis Bingo [10]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy Lewis Needs a Hug, F/M, Pre-Relationship, Protective Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26423491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myracingthoughts/pseuds/myracingthoughts
Summary: Tonight, the desert was an escape, and the stupid white, boxy van a getaway ride. And that’s how Darcy Lewis knew whatever she was having, it was worse than just another bad day.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis
Series: Darcy Lewis Bingo [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927495
Comments: 6
Kudos: 100
Collections: Darcy Lewis Bingo





	Night Driver

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for Darcy Lewis Bingo and checks off box Y5: Van.

The desert of New Mexico wasn’t exactly home to Darcy Lewis. In fact, if you’d asked her back before Thor (BT for reference), she probably would have even said she hated the desert. The sand that found itself in every crevice of her person, the hot, unbearable sun beating down —all topped off with the cherry that was their smelly, sweaty science van.

But tonight, the desert was an escape, and the stupid white, boxy van a getaway ride. And that’s how Darcy Lewis knew whatever she was having, it was worse than just another bad day.

Her cell phone buzzed in the passenger seat, and eyes darting over, she could see Jane’s name and picture illuminated on the screen. Darcy quietly weighed the options as she kept her eyes on the poorly-lit roads. Maybe she should pull over and at least explain why she felt the need to not only steal the vehicle but nearly cross state lines, sometime north of 3 AM. But then again, Jane would probably just forget about it in five minutes and leave Darcy to wallow a little longer.

She needed a good wallow after the night she had.

Eventually, the phone stopped ringing, and Darcy’s will to pull over to the side of a road she hadn’t seen another car on yet dissipated. And with no calls back in the minutes that followed, she chalked it up to Jane being Jane, getting caught up in another breakthrough after she solved whatever menial problem she was probably calling to ask Darcy about. 

Gaze snapping back to the dotted line leading into the horizon, she sighed. Where was she going? Darcy had no idea, but she knew she needed to get out.

It was about two hours later when she pulled into a rest stop, eyelids heavy and body rigid. The adrenaline had left her system hours ago, leaving her a sore, exhausted shell of a person.

Grabbing some murky gas station coffee and a chocolate bar for sugar, she made for the exit. The lot was empty; just a couple truckers passed out in their cabs and the station attendant who seemed a little too comfortable with the night shift.

A trill to her side made her cock her ear toward the sound, realizing one of the payphones was ringing. Quite loudly, and a little shrill. In an almost-deserted truck stop in the middle of nowhere, halfway to Arizona. Taking another look around to the nothing surrounding her, she decided she’d seen weirder and walked towards the cracked and graffiti-covered glass hood.

“Hello?”

“So you’ll pick up the sketchy desert payphone but won’t answer your cell phone? I thought I trained you better than that.”

“Clint?” Darcy groaned, rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “Was that you calling with Jane’s caller ID?”

Maybe she was already half-asleep, but that _would_ make sense. Thinking back, it did seem strange that Jane was awake this early and wasn’t hunched over her lab instruments, dead to the world.

Honestly, Darcy would have bet she’d have at least 12 hours before Jane even noticed she was gone.

“Spoofing’s way easier than trying to pinpoint the exact payphone you’re going to happen to stroll by, Lewis. Why are you running?”

Darcy sighed, not ready to be on this side of an interrogation so early in the morning.

“I’m _so_ not having this conversation on a phone that’s probably got about fifty different types of bacteria on it. I’m just on a midnight joyride, Barton. I don’t need a babysitter,” she said definitively, slamming the earpiece onto the receiver with a satisfying clunk.

“I just need to clear my head,” Darcy whispered out loud like she was trying to convince herself as much.

Returning to the comfort of the van (god, who was she?), Darcy slipped the key into the ignition and turned. Click, click, click… but no turn of the engine. 

She took a deep breath and tried not to panic. It was a finicky beast, ancient —in a dignified sort of way. Maybe it was just having an off day. It wasn’t like it had never given her trouble before, even on a full tank. She pet the steering wheel for luck and tried again.

But still, no luck. 

“This is because I called you smelly, isn’t it?” she huffed, trying to stop her quivering lower lip. “Listen, I’m sorry. You’re a noble steed. Just _please_ take me back to the lab.”

It was five more tries before Darcy choked a frustrated sob and bounced her forehead off the wheel, giving up on reasoning with the van any more.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered, too tired to fight the angry tears already dripping down to the floor mats.

Darcy didn’t know where she was, Jane wouldn’t be able to answer a phone for at least a few hours, and she probably wouldn’t trust the baby SHIELD agents assigned to them to get her grocery order, never mind pick her up in the middle of the desert. 

Her hand clawed at her cell phone, scrolling through her contacts before begrudgingly hitting the call button.

Darcy didn’t wait for a greeting, not that Clint would have provided one.

“I need a ride,” Darcy said limply, trying not to let the rawness of her voice shine through. “The van broke down.” The ‘please don’t say I told you so’ was sitting on the tip of her tongue, but she decided not to remind him.

To his credit, Clint didn’t hesitate with his response. 

“I can be there in twenty,” he said. Even offering a, “Do you want me to stay on the line with you?”

“Yes, please.”

Darcy cringed at her squeak, taking a shuddering breath to settle her nerves as she heard an engine turn over on the other end of the line. She wished it was her own so she could stop getting herself into these weird situations that Clint had to inevitably get her out of. He’d been on her speed dial since New Mexico, and she was pretty sure he was sick of her at this point.

It was official, Jane was cursed, and had definitely passed said curse onto Darcy.

“Do you want to talk about it, champ?”

Miles away, Darcy could still hear the teasing lilt in his tone, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “Walked in on my boyfriend screwing what I thought was his physiotherapist. It turns out it was just his longtime booty call. Apparently, dating doesn’t mean what I thought it did.”

So maybe running off with her boss’s science vehicle and driving off into the desert wasn’t the smartest thing Darcy had done lately, but in her defence, she’d found out the guy she’d been seeing hadn’t really known the definition of ‘exclusive’… or just didn’t care. 

She didn’t know which possibility hurt worse.

“I hope you mean your ex-boyfriend,” Clint said, and Darcy was surprised to hear the anger in his tone. “Or mysteriously disappeared boyfriend. That would work too.”

She managed a watery chuckle, “I guess ex, now. I told him to get all of his stuff out of the apartment by tomorrow —although I guess that means today.”

The last thing she wanted to think about right now was having to come into contact with him again. Her skin itched at the thought. Maybe Jane would let her hideout at the lab until the coast was clear.

“Need an enforcer? I’m willing to upgrade my driver status with this limited time offer if you call right now?” Clint made his best impression of an HSN host, which earned a ghost of a smile from Darcy.

“I might take you up on that.”

She had forgotten how much she appreciated Clint’s humour when he wasn’t trying to take a bite out of her. He _mostly_ did it for her own good, she supposed, but there were only so many potshots she could take before their time together turned into an all-out roast.

At least he was being nice tonight.

“Well, I hope you know he’s an idiot,” Clint said, sounding more serious than he had most of their chat. “And you’ll do a lot better.”

“Thanks,” she offered quietly, nibbling her bottom lip in the growing uncomfortable silence.

It was only a few minutes later when a shitty Honda pulled into the lot, taking the spot right beside the beast of a van —which she was still kind of mad at for letting her down.

“I haven’t got all day, Lewis,” Clint called, craning his head out of the window to yell at her.

“I hope that’s a SHIELD rental,” She shot back as she grabbed her bag and phone before locking the van and hopped into his passenger seat.

“Obviously. I have much better taste than this,” he admonished. “I’ve got a crew coming to tow the lug, by the way. It’ll be fixed and shipped by morning, and Foster will be none the wiser,” Clint added as if he read her mind.

“Thanks.”

With details out of the way, Clint flicked off the radio and peeled out of the parking lot.

“Now, tell me all about this asshole I have to kill,” Clint said a little too casually. “You know, general daily habits, hang-outs, where he works, his mother’s maiden name. Anything would help.”

“Not _kill_ , Clint,” Darcy groaned. “Maybe lightly maim.”

“I can do that. Or get someone else to.”

But that was the last they talked about the asshole, Clint getting the hint that Darcy didn’t need to be told twice that she deserved much better. So they settled on some of his more lurid (and embarrassing) field stories. She didn’t miss the way he watched her with those bright blue eyes, making sure his jokes were landing and she was sufficiently distracted. Darcy was laughing so hard tears came to her eyes within fifteen minutes.

She had missed his stories. Missed him, if she thought too hard about it.

It was about an hour into their drive when Darcy finally turned to Clint during a lull and asked the question that had been lingering. 

“You pick up all the girls who call you at 3 AM, Barton?”

She almost asked him what he was doing here. Why _he_ was the one picking her up before dawn in the middle of nowhere. She almost knew the answer, though she probably wouldn’t call him on it out loud.

Now probably wasn’t the time.

“No, definitely not,” he replied quietly, the ghost of a smile as he looked over at her. “But, for you, Lewis? Anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> I realized halfway through writing this that I write a lot of parking lot scenes, and honestly, I’m not mad about it. Doesn’t everyone have emotional breakthroughs/downs in the middle of parking lots? No? Just me?
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. All comments, kudos and bookmarks are loved and cherished.
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr](https://pasmonblog.tumblr.com/), where I post comic book content, work updates, and behind-the-scenes commentary.


End file.
